I'm Angel
by xXxThe Phantom's RosexXx
Summary: My take on Angel and Mimi meeting for the first time after the skin-head incident. I do not own RENT and reviews make my day.


Meeting Angel

Author's Note: Little fic based on Mimi meeting Angel - written in Angel's POV. I do not own anything in regards to RENT, except for my complete and utter obsession and idolization of Jonathan Larson.

It was freezing.

I pulled my little red jacket tighter around my shoulders and walked further down the sidewalk. I had just gone shopping, well - window shopping. Most of the clothes I liked were over ten dollars, and what's the point of that? There's people starving on these forsaken streets and retail shops expect me to waste my money on clothes while they can barely afford to eat?

Yeah, right. Besides, I can make skirts better than that one in the window - all I needed was a table cloth and some thread and _ta-da_ - a skirt!

As I walked further down the street, I couldn't help but feel that prickling on my skin, the kind you get when someone is following you. New York is a bitch of a city to live in, but I love her despite the fact. The thing about New York is, you have to constantly watch your back on these streets - especially people like me.

I quickened my pace, not exactly knowing where I was going. I had just been evicted from my apartment, if you can even call that rat-hole an apartment, and had no where to go. I supposed I could duck into one of the shops, but just as that thought flashed through my mind, someone jerked at the backpack I was wearing.

"What have we here?" A harsh, gravely voice asked. I turned around to see about five men, all with shaved heads and various kinds of tattoos. Their arms were burly and scarred. I could tell that fighting was their strong suit and, quite possibly, their only talent.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" I asked, batting my long eyelashes, trying to be ever-so patient with them. Getting angry doesn't do any good.

"What have we here?" The largest of the five asked again, the others all grunted what I assumed was supposed to be laughter. Guys with that much hate don't know how to laugh - no one has ever taught them. I felt a little bad, but they _were _wasting my time.

"Someone who has far more important things to do than talk to you guys," I answered calmly.

"What are you, freak?"

"I'm Angel."

That was enough of an answer for me. It obviously wasn't for them, however.

"The hell are you? You aren't a girl, and you're not a guy. You're a thing. An _it_."

Well, isn't that lovely. Ignorance isn't high on my personal favorites list, and I decided to let that comment go. After all, ignorance breeds ignorance. I pushed past him, but he closed in on me. They weren't letting me go anywhere anytime soon. It wasn't looking good. Now, I can kick ass, believe me, I can, but five skin-heads against a little drag queen? The odds were not in my favor.

"Hey fellas, do you want to play with it?" The obvious leader asked.

"No way!" One recoiled, "It probably has a disease."

"Filthy little freak!"

Okay, now that was pushing my buttons.

"Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Blue eye shadow like my auntie Gertrude wears," the third one stepped closer to me. I could practically smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath. Not that I don't smoke or drink, but God it stunk!

"Might want to invest in some breath freshener, honey," I patted his cheek. Okay, so maybe I _shouldn't_ have done that.

"You know, _thing_, I hated my auntie Gertrude."

"Well, that's not too shocking. People like you hardly ever know how to show an emotion besides hate."

"That's it..." one of them took a threatening step towards me.

I stood my ground. Sure, I was scared. Hell, I was shaking on the inside, but why let them know that, huh? Besides, what could they do to me that hasn't been done already? Bloody noses, bruises, hate-words, rape, it's nothing new to me.

As he raised his fist, I noticed a cross tattooed on his forearm. Well, isn't that lovely?

"What does your God think about you?" I asked him, "Is he proud of you for treating people that are different than you like lepers?"

"_Huh_?"

"You know," I straightened, remembering something from my childhood faith, "Jesus hung out with lepers. Healed them, ate with them, loved them."

"Don't go preaching to me, freak. God _hates _people like you!"

"God...hates. Well now, that's an oxymoron if I ever heard one!"

So I am not the most religious person in the world, but someone must have created the rainbows and sunsets and butterflies and oceans and flowers and beauty, right?

"Did you call me a moron?"

Well, aren't they intelligent creatures?

"I think we might have to teach this _thing _a lesson," the leader came closer to me. I had to make my move. It was either now, or never.

"Sweetie," I said, which caused his face to grow red with embarrassment or anger, I wasn't sure which, "I am more of a man than you will ever be, and I am more of a woman than you are ever going to get. Ta-ta," I wiggled my blue fingernails at him before heading off down the street.

I could feel their cold stares drilling against me. I silently prayed they weren't following me. As I was walking, I wasn't paying too much attention, and rammed right into someone.

"Oof!"

"Oh my gosh," I steadied the girl I had just knocked into. She was wearing hot pink and leopard print - it offset my purple and zebra print perfecty - and red heels. Her long brown hair was a mess and she was so frail, for a moment I thought I might have broken her.

"I'm okay...really," she straightened the hot pink, leather skirt and grinned at me, "That was really cool what you did back there."

"Oh, that?"

She nodded.

"That was nothing, chica."

"It sure as hell was something! I wouldn't have that kind of courage."

"Well, it's nothing I haven't been through before."

"Well I was impressed," she stuck on her hand, "Mimi."

"Angel," I shook it, "Angel Dumott Shunard. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," she beamed, and I felt something there - like a pull at my heart. Like a magnet. There was something special about this girl, I could just feel it.

"I love your skirt, by the way," she added, "Where did you get it?"

"This old thing?" I motioned towards the purple and pink stripped skirt, "I made it."

"No way!"

"Way."

"You are amazing, really! That's some talent," Mimi felt the hem of the skirt, "Wow."

"Do you want me to make one for you?"

"Oh...oh no...I couldn't ask you to...I just...I couldn't."

"Nonsense! I insist. But I do need a favor in return."

"Sure. Anything."

"I was evicted from my place the other day and park benches don't suffice when a girl's trying to get her beauty sleep. Do you mind if I crash at your place?"

"It isn't much," Mimi admitted, "but sure. I like the idea of having a roommate."

We linked arms and began to walk down the sidewalk back to her apartment. As we were walking, we passed my five favorite skinheads. Mimi glanced over nervously, biting her lip.

As we walked past them, I couldn't resist.

I turned around and blew the big, ugly bear of a leader a kisss, "Mwah!"

Mimi cackled with laughter and pulled me along, "Angel! You shouldn't have done that!"

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because..." she couldn't think up a good answer.

"No day but today, chica," I said, excusing my behavior, "Why not live it to the fullest?"


End file.
